


Intervention

by QuietlyImplode



Series: Rescue Me [5]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Clint Barton Needs a Hug, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Medical intervention, Mission Gone Wrong, Natasha Romanov Needs a Hug, Seizures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:07:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27239296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuietlyImplode/pseuds/QuietlyImplode
Summary: “Will you let her work now?” Tony gestures to Cho, “maybe this could have been avoided if you’d just let her do it before.” Tony sounds so pissed and concerned at the same time.“No.” Clint shoots dagger eyes at Tony. “She said no.”“Clint,” Pepper tries, “we know, but you have to admit this changes things. Even pain medication? She must be in so much pain.” Pepper looks forlorn.Clint grunts.“You don’t know. None of you know.”
Relationships: Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark
Series: Rescue Me [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1984783
Comments: 4
Kudos: 60





	Intervention

“Tasha?”

“Fuck.”

“Move her, lay her down.”

“What’s wrong with her?”

“What’s happening?”

“Protect her head and start timing.”

“Clint, let go of her, goddamnit.”

“Tony, can you get Friday to take her vitals?”

“Her temperature is too high, she’s febrile. Infection maybe?”

“How longs it been?”

“Clint, has she ever had one before?”

“Clint!?”

“Was she just hit in the head?”

Clint’s ignoring all of them, choosing instead to cradle Natasha’s seizing head in his lap and talk to her, reassure her, lie to her to her and tell her everything is fine.

Everything is not fine.

Doctor Cho uses the time to visually examine her, they’ve removed the blanket covering her, making sure her shaking limbs don’t get tangled within. Natasha’s cat suit had been removed (probably long ago, as it didn’t return with her) leaving her in a black sports bra and skintight shorts. There’s bruising everywhere. Notably, she realises the absence of bruising at the juncture of her legs and sighs a little inside. One less hurt on a multitude of hurts.

The skin of her wrists and ankles probably need debriding, there’s slough in each with redness pushing past the wounds; it may speak to Natasha’s rising temperature. The band of bruising around her chest with bruises flowering from middle look painful - maybe broken ribs? She’s unsure without touching them, and there’s no way she’s doing that without consent.

She’s seen worse knife marks, but the shallow cuts that seemingly litter all of Natasha seem more for pain than anything else. Each are weeping, the slow trickle of blood from each on its own would be fine, but together there seems to be blood dripping everywhere.

And then there’s the taser burns. Maybe an increase in electricity has sparked the seizure? Cho doesn’t wonder about the constant tremor that played across her body intermittently.

Maybe this is a result of everything.

Doctor Cho takes note of the puncture marks in Natasha’s neck. It’s hidden amongst the blossoming bruise that’s become more prominent since Clint and Natasha stepped onto the jet. She’d caught a peak of it but had mostly been covered.

She hadn’t even considered an overdose.

They’re nearing the four minute mark when Natasha’s body slows. Cho advises them to roll her into a recovery position. Her body pistons back and Cho sees the bile work it way up her throat; acting as quick as she can she tries to position Natasha’s head in a way it’s facing down using Clint as a support, hoping it’s enough to help the vomit drain.

“Sorry,” Cho says to Clint as his legs are covered.

Tony looks on in disgust and Pepper is gathering towels and any medical supplies she can think, giving them to Clint to help with the mess and mop up.

“Will you let her work now?” Tony gestures to Cho, “maybe this could have been avoided if you’d just let her do it before.” Tony sounds so pissed and concerned at the same time.

“No.” Clint shoots dagger eyes at Tony. “She said no.”

“Clint,” Pepper tries, “we know, but you have to admit this changes things. Even pain medication? She must be in so much pain.” Pepper looks forlorn.

Clint grunts.

“You don’t know. None of you know.”

The conversation is halted by more retching. Cho can’t even imagine how much that must be hurting Natasha’s ribs, the cuts and the pressure through her neck. Even swallowing must be painful.

Most concerning, if she has a concussion, which is seemingly more and more likely, Cho wonders if there’s any bruising on her brain.

Cho thinks she’s still out of it, Natasha wasn’t particularly conscious or unconscious when she got on the jet, enough to be vigilant of everyone and thing around her but not enough to respond.

She surprised when she hears Russian words, followed by English, then French.

“Bol’she ne nado..”

“No more.”

“Pas plus.”

Followed by a plea.

“Stop.” The implicit request; make it stop.

Clint’s immediately in front of her face. Wiping away sweat and tears.

“Tasha?”

He switches to Russian, knowing Tony and Pepper don’t speak it. Wanting privacy but knowing at this point it’s impossible. It’s also easier for Natasha to fall back to. Short sentences.

“Mne zhal’.” I’m sorry. “Chto ranit?” What hurts?”

“Vse,” Natasha breathes out. Everything.

“Medikament?” Medication?

Natasha’s eyes search his face. Sees the concern. Knows he’s only got her best interest at heart, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking.

“Tvoy vybor.” Your choice.

She’s fading again. Clint can see it before it happens, knows it’s going to happen.

“Start timing,” he says just as she starts to seize.

They fall into the previous routine.

Tony’s pacing and Cho’s sitting in the chair Clint and Natasha vacated, looking down on the pair.

Peppers watching the front, keeping an eye on the autopilot and coordinates, away from the confrontation of Tony and Clint and away from Natasha’s pain. She can bare it, but only so much. Let Tony stand witness.

This time it only lasts two minutes. Better. But only just. Better would be no seizures but they take what they can get.

“Do it doc.”

Tony rubs his hand over his face. Relief is evident.

Cho moves before Clint changes his mind, quickly prepping a syringe full of pain medication and another of antibiotics. She pulls Natasha’s arm away from her body, pulling straight. They go in quickly and smooth; experience with noncompliance evident in all actions. Each touch is a means to an end, a diagnosis to stop deterioration. Clint is watching her like his namesake - eyes sharp on everything she does - watching and learning in case he ever need to replicate any of the actions.

“How far out are we?” She inquires, worry crossing her features.

“Why?” Tony asks, “what do you need?”

Clint’s whispering in Natasha’s ears again.

“MRI? CT? X-ray? Anything to double check what my eyes are telling me.”

“The portable MRI is in the corner,” Pepper points it out, “do you want me to set it up?”

The doctor defaults to Clint. “Ok?”

Clint nods, a short drop of his chin.


End file.
